


Habits

by Semi_problematic



Series: Hunter and Prey [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Backstory, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, Laughter During Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Teasing, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 04:04:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: He looked all around the car, smiling when Sam started it. “She makes a beautiful sound, doesn't she?”Sam nodded, studying Dean. “Yeah.” He bit his lip so hard it bled. “I bet you sound better.”“Oh.” Dean chuckled, elbowing Sam. “You're getting straight to the point, aren't you?”Sam blushed, watching Dean shove his bag into the floorboard. “Is that a bad thing?”Dean shook his head, climbing into Sam's lap and combing his fingers through Sam's hair. “Not at all.” He hummed, kissing Sams jaw. “Its kinda hot.”-Hunter!Sam and Normal!Dean





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Read after you've read 
> 
> \- Beginning
> 
> \- Kiss Me 
> 
> \- Grim Reminder

When Sam awoke, a wave of nerves washed over him. Tonight was the night. He was taking Dean home. If Sam was being honest with himself, he swore one night stands off a long time ago. After multiple rejected numbers and ignored calls, he realized it wasn't his thing. Wanting to stay in touch wasn't what one night stands were for. He was too attached and too needy, at least that's what Bobby said. His relationships worked well, but that was because he was committed. Sam couldn't be that way with Dean. He couldn't mess it all up. 

The first thing Sam did was clean. He made the bed over and over and over, studying it before undoing it once more. This had to be perfect. Dean didn't do these things either, so he had to make things special. Memorable. The idea that only Sam would love tonight terrified him. He wanted it to be good for Dean, whatever “it” was. Sam finally finished the bed, but his work wasn't done yet. Next, he picked out his outfit for the day then folded all his spare clothes up and stuffed them in his bag. Weapons went in there too, all except the small pocket knife that was laying on the nightstand. Pocket knives weren't unusual. Dean would probably love it, in fact, he seemed like the type.

Sam fluffed the pillows on the small chair in the corner and on the bed, then moved the four chairs beneath the kitchen table so they were all even and pushed in. The kitchen had gone untouched except for the trash can being almost full. Sam decided to move that out of sight. He needed to go shopping, but he could do that later. Run to the store and pick up snacks and beer then run it home and pick up Dean. The giddiness Sam felt reminded him of how he felt in high school. Then again, boys never actually wanted him then. They do now, though. Sam was thankful. Sam set his backpack next to the T.V. stand and rubbed the dust from the T.V. off with his hand.

He knew it was stupid to be so picky about how tonight went, but it meant so much to him. He hadn't been close to someone in ages and now Dean was all over him. If he didn't make this good, it would be a wasted opportunity. Mentally, Sam couldn't handle it. Insecurities already filled his brain. Too tall. Too big. Too needy. Too loud. Too weird. Dean wanting him didn't put his anxieties to rest, but it did quiet them down some. Sam always cared about how it was for other people, too. Making other people feel good made him feel good.

Once the room was in shape, Sam walked to the bathroom to shower. He pulled his clothes off and climbed into the shower, leaving the door wide open. Trapped steam always bothered him. It gave bathrooms a foggy look that he didn't like. The water was nice once again, Sam groaning as it splashed across his body. He tugged his fingers through the tangles in his hair and tilted his head back into the water. Sam was going to miss the warm water. It was nice, perfect even. Perfect compared to the places Sam had been to. 

Sam made sure to scrub every inch of his body over and over, his hair falling in front of his face. His skin was nearly red by the time he was done, but he felt clean. He washed his hair a few times, partly because he didn't want to get out of the shower. Showers always gave him a feeling of safety. The world stopped while the water poured down on him. He could think about things or he could stand there and live in the moment. Either way, showers always felt good. Especially after hunts when he was clawed up and bloody. Sam ran his hand over his beard, studying the small razor in a package that the motel obviously laid out for him. Did Dean like his beard? 

He climbed out of the shower and grabbed a towel, walking into the room and drying himself off. He watched the news, which was playing softly in the background as he continued to dry off. His hair was soaked and water dripped from it, soaking his back. Still, Sam didn't want to blow dry it. Sam didn't like loud noises, especially ones that he could avoid. Eventually, he squeezed the towel around his hair, the towel collecting most of the water that was left. Sam walked back into the bathroom and looked at himself, frowning.

Scars littered Sam's body. Scars from knives and bullets and claws and fangs. They stood out, scarred and wrinkled tissue pointing out each mark on his body. He wanted to cry, he did each time he saw them. They were ugly. There was no way Dean would like them. All they do is make Sam look bad. No normal person has scars like that. Sam ran his hand across them, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He walked out and got dressed, hoping to distract himself and successfully cover up the scars. Still, the pit in his stomach remained. He tried his best to ignore it, but it was rare that Sam's best was good enough.

Sam laced his boots on and stuffed his wallet into his pocket. With his phone in one hand, keys in the other, he made his way to the door. Driving was still weird. He had gone so long without it, and he didn't mind. The floor of the car was clean, Dean or Andy must have been responsible for it, because Sam knew for a fact that it was a mess when he gave it to them. Sam had slowly given up before he met Dean. Chores and habits he did slowly stopped being done. Sam fell out of his rhythm, and just started to move throughout his life on autopilot. Research. Interview. Hunt. Kill. Drive. Then repeat. It didn't feel like living, it felt like existing.

Meeting Dean helped Sam live again. Sam didn't put his life on Dean, Dean wasn't really responsible for keeping Sam alive. Instead, he gave him a reason to live. A reminder that things wouldn't always suck. Dean was like sunrise for him. As stupidly poetic as it sounded, Dean reminded him that no matter how dark it was, he could see the light again. Sam was reading too far into things, but it was better than being miserable and alone. Sam still couldn't believe that Dean even wanted him. Dean was just so good and Sam was… Sam. Then again, Dean didn't want the real Sam. He wanted the fake, normal Sam. 

The store Sam went to was small, sort of like a market. Only a few cars were outside and easily half of them were workers. Sam gripped his cart as he wandered around, nervously picking out foods. He was sure to get potatoes and green beans, along with macaroni and cheese. Sam planned on cooking some pork chops for Dean considering that the only restaurants around them were fast food and he already spent a few days getting Dean a burger and fries. Sam got the pork chops along with some frozen hash browns and some eggs. If Dean stayed the night he needed to be able to make him some breakfast in the morning.

Sam put a few more things in his cart before successfully checking out and filling his car up with all the bags. His nerves were only growing worse as he drove back to the motel, smiling at the worker when he got out. After he checked in Friday he had gone in again to make sure he had the rooms until Tuesday, just to be safe. The worker didn't smile back, but Sam didn't mind. He had bigger things to think about. Sam put all the food away, putting the beer, water, and soda in the fridge along with other foods. The bags of vegetables stayed on the kitchen counter in their bags while the other foods were taken out and put into the few cabinets that lined the walls. 

Before leaving once more, Sam checked the room. Made sure all weapons were gone and that all his clothes were packed. The bed was made and the bathroom and kitchen were both clean. Then, he studied himself in the full length, dirty mirror. He didn't look bad, but He didn't look good. Hopefully, Dean won't care what he thinks. Sam debated preheating the oven so by the time he got back it would be done and ready to be used, but he decided against it. Risking a fire wasn't worth it. Maybe cooking will impress Dean. Hopefully.

The drive to Smith's Shop was far too short and Sam found himself not wanting to get out of the car. It was crazy that this was happening and it didn't feel real. After so long, Sam couldn't believe someone wanted to be with him. Then again, Dean was in the same boat. Sam was thankful for that. Not that Dean had a breakup, but that it had been a while for Dean too. Sam hoped that he wouldn't judge him too much. He climbed out of the car and stuffed his hands in his pockets, making his way across the parking lot. As Sam walked through the door, his nose was filled with the smell of cooking popcorn. Behind the counter was Miranda, studying her nails, several papers spread out in front of her. 

“Hi.” Sam smiled, waving at her. “I… um… am here for Dean.”

Miranda looked him up and down. “But there's no food… are you ordering food this time? Or are you just chatting?”

“I'm here to pick him up.” Sam tried to sound confident but he failed. He was too nervous to even admit that they were doing something out loud. Was it a date? Sam counted it as a date. He called it a date. 

“He… has a car.”

Sam laughed, his cheeks turning pick. “No, I mean I am here to pick him up.” He drew the sentence out longer, tilting his head to the side. “You know… pick him up.”

Miranda gasped. “Oh my god? Oh my god!” She sounded confused, but it quickly turned to excitement. “You're here to pick up my Dean? The boy who swore off casual dating.”

“Yeah.” Sam smiled, awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs. “I swore off the same thing. I guess we make exceptions.” 

“I guess so-” 

Dean walked past the counter, throwing a bag over his shoulder. “Sam is dropping me off tomorrow so I can come back and get my car.”

“Dean.” Miranda laughed. “Your car works.”

“Yeah, it better, I'm a mechanic.”

“Why not drive to Sam's?” Miranda was obviously messing with him. She wanted to hear him admit it. Sam wanted to hear it too, but he was too shy to ask. 

“Because I am going on a date, Miranda. Don't forget to close up. If you wanna close up at eight instead of eleven you can, just text me and tell me. On my normal phone, not my work phone.” Dean continued towards Sam, listing off a series of things she had to do. “And make sure the gates are locked.”

“I know, Dean.” 

“Okay. Good luck.” Dean flashed a smile before pulling Sam into an unexpected kiss. “You ready?”

Sam nodded, smiling. “Yeah…” He breathed out. “Yeah.”

As they walked towards the car, Dean took Sam's hand and held it. Sam tried not to read into it, but it felt like Dean knew exactly what he needed. Sam watched him as they walked, chewing on his lower lip. Sam struggled to read him. It felt as though Dean had a personality that he showed Sam when they were alone and another for when they were in a group. It wasn't a bad thing, Sam just wasn't sure which Dean was the real Dean.

“What are we having for dinner?” Dean asked, holding his bag in his lap. He looked all around the car, smiling when Sam started it. “She makes a beautiful sound, doesn't she?”

Sam nodded, studying Dean. “Yeah.” He bit his lip so hard it bled. “I bet you sound better.”

“Oh.” Dean chuckled, elbowing Sam. “You're getting straight to the point, aren't you?” 

Sam blushed, watching Dean shove his bag into the floorboard. “Is that a bad thing?” 

Dean shook his head, climbing into Sam's lap and combing his fingers through Sam's hair. “Not at all.” He hummed, kissing Sams jaw. “Its kinda hot.” 

“Oh, that's good.” Sam wanted to punch himself. He sounded stupid. So stupid that it was frustrating to even speak. He leaned up and kissed Dean, smiling into the kiss when Dean kissed back. At least he could shut up this way. 

They kissed, Dean rocking down against Sam while Sam nervously moved his hands over Dean's body. He pulled him closer, grinning when Dean pulled away to undo Sams shirt. The horn honked as Dean hit it, causing them both to jump before laughing. Dean looked beautiful as he laughed, his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wide. If Sam wasn't already in love, he fell in love in that moment. 

“Cars aren't a good place to makeout, are they?” Dean was still kissing him in between each word, not that Sam minded. 

“Not when we are pinned up against the wheel. Maybe-” Sam glanced in the back. “Maybe the back is better.”

“Slow down, ‘kay?” Dean kissed him again. Sam wondered how anyone could ever give him up. “We have enough time to do that later. That sound good?”

It was funny that Dean was the one telling him to slow down. He had a feeling that would change soon enough. Sam's mouth was dry and his heart raced. He nodded quickly. “Yeah, lets get to my place. I can start cooking and everything.” 

Dean climbed out of his lap, nodding. “Sounds good.” He took Sam's hand once they began driving, looking at each building they passed. Music played in the background but Sam was too busy listening to the way Dean hummed along to it. Sam always hated the older music, but maybe Dean could change that. Sam was sure Dean could solve most world problems just by smiling. 

“Pork chops.”

“What?” Dean made a face and looked at Sam. He still looked beautiful. 

“That's what's for dinner.” Sam grabbed the wheel. “I am baking pork chops. Is that okay?”

“You should know by now that I'm not a picky eater.” Dean smiled. “We really could have gone to the diner or even McDonald's. You don't have to cook for me.”

Sam shook his head, driving down the road. “I want to. Eating non-stop fattening foods is so unhealthy. I don't wanna see you drop dead of a heart attack at age forty.” 

Dean smirked before shaking his own head. “You worry too much.” Dean swat at his arm playfully. “I eat just fine when I cook for myself. Carrots and corn and potatoes. I just won't choose to eat a salad when there is a fattier option.” He flashed a smile.

Sam didn't reply. Dean was right. He did. Sam wasn't even listening to the rest of what Dean had said. He was too worried that he was coming off creepy or overbearing. Sam had just lost so many people so fast. He didn't want to lose his one good thing. 

Sam couldn't stop himself from feeling insecure when he pulled into the parking lot. The motel was mostly empty, which made Sam happy. He had yet to focus on how small of a town it was and how it could possibly be filled with homophobes. When Sam grew up he was surrounded by them. He didn't want to touch or kiss Dean if it meant outing him or risking them being in danger or harassed. He climbed out of the car and grabbed Dean's bag from the floor. He pulled out his motel room key and walked around the car. 

“This is it.” Sam mumbled, raising his hands up. “It's not good.” 

“It's not bad, Sam. We are both adults. Stop worrying that I'm gonna judge you.” Dean closed the door on the car and walked towards Sam. “Thanks for being a gentleman.” He took the key out of his hand and unlocked the door, holding it open for Sam. “Wow… you're… clean.’’ 

Sam stepped inside, setting Dean's bag down on the bed. “Is that a bad thing?” He asked, walking towards Dean.

Dean closed the door, leaning against it. “No. Just figured for someone who always traveled you would be a lot more messy.” He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, pulling him down into a kiss. “You don't have to cook right now. You can cook later.”

“What do you wanna do now then?” Sam smirked, looking at Dean's eyes then his lips. 

“I can think of a few things.” Dean slid his hands down his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Slow down.” Sam chuckled, pushing his hands away. “We have all night.” Sam teased. Dean made him wait. Now it was his turn to make him wait. 

“Which means we can fit a few rounds in if we start now.” 

Sam walked into the kitchen, turning on the oven so it would preheat. He got all the food out, smiling when he saw a few pants and pots under the sink. “I need to make dinner. It's gonna take an hour.”

“You are lucky you're hot. If you were anyone else I wouldn't be waiting.” Dean walked up behind Sam, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his back.

Preparing the food was nice. Dean kissed him after almost every single thing he did, but he wasn't complaining. Dean cut the vegetables up while Sam got the pork chops ready and put them in the oven. They were a good team and having Dean around had cut the prep time in half. Sam also found himself getting a little handsy too. Thankfully, Dean was able to cook the potatoes and macaroni and cheese while Sam was busy pestering him. 

“Be careful, I have a knife.” Dean teased, holding a knife up and waving it around slightly. “I'm done with it, though.” He set it down and pushed the cutting board away from himself. 

“Good.” Sam turned Dean around, pinning him against the counter. “I can't keep my hands off of you.” He hummed, slipping his hands beneath his shirt, fingertips ghosting across his skin. 

Dean tilted his head to the side, pushing himself up onto the counter. He pulled Sam between his legs, kissing him. “That's not a bad thing.” He smiled, kissing his jaw some. “I think we can have a quickie.”

“Wait.” Sam grinned. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Patience is a cockblock. As fun as cooking with you is, I wanna do other things.” Dean unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, shoving it off of his shoulders. “Funner things.” 

“That's not a word.”

“God.” Dean grinned, kissing him softly. “You really are the king of ruining the mood, Sam.” 

“I just think we should wait.” Sam grabbed Dean by the hips and yanked him closer, kissing his lips then his jaw and neck. “The build up and the teasing is the best part.” He sunk his teeth into Dean's neck, smirking when Dean gasped. “The wait is gonna be worth it.” He cleared his throat and pulled away. 

“You-” Dean picked up a carrot, taking a bite. “Are a tease.” 

“Don't spoil your appetite.” Sam scolded, grabbing the small bag of carrots and tying them shut. He put them in the fridge and walked back over to Dean, kissing him. “Sorry, just… can't seem to get enough of you.”

“Please.” Dean smiled, kissing him again. “That's not bad.” He pushed himself off the counter and walked around the kitchen, pulling the curtain back and looking out the window. “So… you leave tomorrow?” 

“Hopefully.” Sam lied, tucking his fingers into his pockets. “I plan on it, but… I don't know. If you really do want me to stay a little longer, I can. I know we've made jokes but after tonight if you mean it-”

“You don't have to stay.” Dean closed the curtain and looked back at Sam. His heart was aching as he looked at Dean. He was dumb to believe this could become anything other than a one night stand. “I'll slash your tires before you wake up.” 

Sam felt a weight lifted off of him, but he still couldn't force out a laugh. “Romantic.”

“No. Romantic would be confessing my love to you and begging you to never leave.” 

Sam picked up two beers he had set out earlier, handing one to Dean. “Is there any chance I can get that before tomorrow?”

“Depends how drunk you can get me.” Dean cracked the cap off of his beer and took a sip before setting it down and taking Sam's. He opened the beer up and handed it back to him. “What kinda job do you have?”

“Odd jobs.” Sam lied. He couldn't say he worked a serious job. When normal jobs send you on a trip they give you a much better place to stay in than a sixty dollar motel room. “Nothing too serious.”

“So.” Dean pursed his lips, swaying his beer back and forth. “You could stay if you wanted to. Since that's not a job like an office worker or a lawyer.”

“I went to school to be a lawyer.” 

Dean smirked. “That is… respectable.”

“I ended up leaving after um… an accident. But yeah. I got a full ride at Stanford and had perfect grades.” It felt good to have one normal thing to brag about, to have pride in. 

“Hot.” Dean said before laughing. “But no, really, that's crazy. A full ride? To Stanford? God. You must be smart as hell.”

“No.” Sam felt his cheeks turning pink. He waved Dean off. “Not smart. Just… good at school.”

“I was the exact opposite. Um… I was in foster care, but no family ever really wanted me so when I got older I just went to a boys home. I uh… dropped out of school my sophomore year, which was illegal, and started working at this guys ship. His name was Sonny and he was basically my dad. Him and his wife.” Dean looked anywhere but Sam as he spoke. “But um… no.” He laughed some. “That's dumb.”

“No..” Sam reached out and rubbed his arm. “You can tell me. I mean… you're talking to the boy who dropped out of Stanford on a full ride.” 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “That is pretty dumb.”

Sam laughed.

“But um.. when I was seventeen Sonny and his wife officially adopted me. I got my GED and then Sonny gave me the shop.” Dean shrugged some. “He still lives in town but he retired.” 

“He sounds great.” Sam mumbled. “I have a guy like that. His name is Bobby. I mean, I had a dad but he wasn't really a dad.” 

“It sucks.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed. “But real dads are overrated.”

“I can drink to that.”

About fifteen minutes before the pork chops were done, Sam and Dean made some salad. Surprisingly, Dean didn't gag at the thought of eating a salad. Next, they set the table with paper towels and paper plates, along with plastic silverware. There was a calm feeling Sam felt around Dean. Between them, there was no judging. They took each other as they were and accepted it. Sam couldn't believe he had found someone so remarkable. Sam pulled the four pork chops out of the oven and set one on each of their two plates, leaving the other two for later. He scooped some potatoes and macaroni and cheese onto each plate before setting them down. 

“This smells amazing.” Dean commented as he sat down. “I don't know what to eat first.”

“Yeah, I love to cook I just can't do it an awful lot.” Sam started to cut at his pork chop, looking up at Dean. “Maybe if I visit we can do this.”

“I want you to.” Dean was already shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth, cutting at his own pork chop. He moaned as he took a bite of it, leaning back in his seat. “Amazing.”

Sam laughed. “Thanks, Dean. It means a lot.” He took a bite of his own pork chop, smiling to himself. “Not bad.”

“Not bad? Dude, this is orgasmic.”

Sam made a face. “Don't say that ever again, I'm begging you.”

Dean laughed, his cheeks filled with food. “Sorry. It's good, Sam. Really. You gotta be nicer to yourself.”

Sam took another bite, scooping sone macaroni and cheese onto his fork. “It's just hard.” 

“It shouldn't be.” Dean dipped his pork chop in his mashed potatoes that were now mixed with his macaroni and cheese. He took a bite and chewed loudly. “You're great.”

Sam blushed, taking another bite. “Thanks, Dean. You're… you're really great.” 

“God. You need to settle down so you can eat like this more.” Dean was eating his salad now. “Because this salad isn't awful.”

“Wow. Dean Smith eating a salad and not dying. That's crazy.”

Dean flicked some potatoes at Sam. “Bite me.”

“Later.” Sam smirked, scooping up some potatoes.

“You really know how to tease.” Dean pointed his fork at him. “And I don't know if I love it or hate it.”

“I'm not trying to…” Sam swallowed. “I just… I wanna make it good.”

“Well, trust me on this.” Dean leaned over the table some. “There is no way that it won't be good.” 

After dinner, they cleaned up, throwing the plates and silverware into a trash bag, along with the dirty paper towels. Sam didn't have much food to save, considering Dean went back for seconds and thirds. It was cute, how excited Dean got for all the food. Dean went into the other room and turned on the T.V. to watch some cop show while Sam finished up cleaning. Sam found himself peeking into the room just so he could look at Dean and the big smile on his face. That boy had his heart.

“What do you want for dessert?” Sam asked, wiping his hands on his pants. “I have cake and brownies and some ice cream. I also have doughnuts but I planned on eating those with you tomorrow morning.”

Dean turned and looked at him, his eyes looking over Sams body. “I got something else in mind.” He reached out and took Sam's hand, pulling Sam towards him. He pulled Sam down onto the bed, kissing him softly before slipping his tongue into his mouth. His hands slid down Sam's body, fingertips slipping beneath his shirt. “How does that sound?” He whispered once he pulled away.

Sam smiled down at him, his hair falling in front of his face. “Amazing.” Sam pushed Dean back on the bed, slotting himself between Dean's legs. He grabbed Dean's jaw and turned his head to the side, kissing his neck. 

Dean whimpered softly, combing his fingers through Sam's hair. “God… that's good.” He hooked one leg around Sam's waist, grinding against him subtly. “Come here.” He whispered, pulling Sam into a kiss, biting his bottom lip.

Sam moaned into the kiss, grinding down against Dean. He cupped his cheek with one hand, the other hand splayed out next to Dean's head to hold himself up. He kissed Dean's lips until they were swollen and red, then he kissed down his jaw and neck, sucking marks on Dean's creamy skin. “Fuck.” He pulled away, sitting up. He pulled Dean's jacket off, tossing it away. “You're wearing too many clothes.”

Dean's hands were hot against his skin. He dug his nails into Sam's stomach before grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I can say the same about you.” He tugged Sam down against him, pulling his shirt up. He dug his nails into Sam's back when Sam started to grind against him. “Shit.”

Sam grabbed his shirt and tugged it off, throwing it to the side. He kissed Dean again, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. He held Dean into place, grinding into him like he was fucking him. “God, that's so fucking good.” 

Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair, tugging it each time their cocks slotted together. “It's cute how needy you're getting.” Dean teased, rocking his hips against Sam's in a painfully slow rhythm.

Sam slid his hand between them, pakming Dean's cock. He watched Dean as he tossed his head back and whimpered, Sam's fingers tugging down his zipper and popping the button. “That was cute.” He whispered against Dean's jaw. “Take your pants off.” Sam climbed off the bed and undid his pants, tugging them down and kicking them away. He climbed back onto the bed, tugging Dean's pants off his legs. 

Dean pulled his own shirt off, climbing into Sam's lap. He pushed Sam back against the bed, grinding against him slowly. “Don't rush this.” Dean whispered, sliding his hand across Sam's chest.

Sam whimpered, bucking up against him. He hated being needy and desperate, but it had been so long. So, so long since someone was tugging his clothes off and begging for him. He gripped Deans hips, speeding his movements up and holding him down. “Sorry…” He smiled some, pushing against him.

“That's hot…” Dean whispered, letting Sam guide his hips. His thumb rubbed against Sam's anti possession tattoo, tracing the outline of it. He leaned down, kissing across it, whimpering when Sam held him close and practically fucked into him. “God, Sam…” He buried his face in Sams neck and held him close. “Please.”

“What do you want?” Sam asked, rolling them over. “C'mon..” He smirked down at Dean. “Tell me.” He kissed across Dean's collar, smirking when he whined and ground up against Sam. “Use your words, baby…” He licked across his jaw. “You weren't this shy earlier.”

“Need you…” Dean pushed Sams head down his body. 

“Need my mouth?” Sam asked, clicking his tongue against his teeth. He tilted his head to the side and rubbed his thumbs across Dean's nipples. 

Dean nodded, whimpering when Sam kissed at his hips. Sam had no idea Dean could become so needy. He pulled at Sam's hair, pushing his head further down. “Please-”

“Well…” Sam kissed the outline of Dean's hard cock through his boxers. He ran his tongue across the length before sucking on the tip. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Dean's boxers and slowly tugged them down. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

Sam slipped Dean's legs over his shoulders, pulling Sam closer. He held Dean's hips down as his tongue teased around his smooth hole. Dean whimpered and arched his back, trying to pull Sam closer, but it didn't work. Sam had him pinned down. He was stuck squirming and taking whatever Sam gave him, even if all he did was tease. Sam's cock was hard in his boxers, so he ground against the edge of the bed, moaning against Dean. Dean's dick was hard and leaking against his stomach as he bucked against Sam.

This had always been Sam's favorite part. Reducing a boy to just whimpers and whines, slowly unraveling them. The noises they made when they were so pent up and needy filled Sam with a sense of pride. Besides, making other people feel good got him off. The first time Sam ever gave a boy a blow job, he creamed himself just from the noises.

“More…” Dean gasped out, grinding up against Sam's mouth the best he could. “Don't be a fucking tease-”

Sam pulled away, kissing up Dean's thigh before biting down. “Be nice…” He licked across where he bit. “Good boys get rewards.”

“Damn it…” Dean spread his legs more, gripping Sam's wrists. “You're such a fuckin- ah!” Dean arched his back off the bed, his legs shaking around Sam's shoulders. “Right there, right there.” 

Sam chuckled against him, licking him open. Dean tasted amazing, better than Sam could have ever imagined. Sam hummed against Dean, sucking on the rim before dipping his tongue inside. Dean shivered against him, his nails digging at Sam's wrist. Sam could feel him drawing blood, not that Sam hated it. He liked a little pain. 

“God…” Dean covered his face with his arm, grinding down against Sam's mouth as soon as Sam let go of his hips. There were going to be bruises tomorrow. Dean loved that. “You're so fucking good at this, fuck…” His other hand was tangled in his hair, tugging at it each time Sam tried to pull away.

“Calm down…” Sam breathed out, kissing around his hole. “I wanna make this last.” Part of him wanted to film this, or at least take a photo of Dean like this. Spread out and hot all over. His cheeks were bright red and his lips were swollen and bitten on. “I'll let you come… just gotta enjoy this a little while longer.” 

Sam's jaw ached as he continued to eat Dean out, but the noises he made were beyond worth it. The way he shook against Sam's mouth was almost as good as the moans. Dean was so beautiful like this. Stripped naked and soaking wet. Sam dipped a finger between his legs, only the tip sliding past the rim. “You're so wet.” Sam grinned, kissing at his hip.

“God damn it, Sam.” Dean desperately rocked down against his finger, whimpering. “Please, I need more than just th-”

“You're wet for me, yeah?” Sam kissed the head of Dean’s cock before licking a stripe down it. He was almost as hard as Sam was, the head red and the veins sticking out. Sam wanted nothing more than to take Dean's cock in his mouth, but he could do that another time. He slipped his finger in deeper, moaning as the tight, warm wrapped around his finger. “Wet like a girl.”

“Sam-”

“Say it.” Sam sucked a mark on Dean's hip bone. He slipped his finger in even deeper, moaning against his skin.

“Move your finger.” Dean whispered. “Please-”

“Say it.” Sam growled. “Tell me you're wet for me…” He curled his finger, chuckling when Dean nearly screamed. “Tell me I make you wet like a little girl.”

“Fucking shit…” Dean sighed. “You make me wet, Sammy-” Sam could feel his cock leaking against his boxers. “You make m- fuck!” Dean rocked down against his finger. “Make me so wet, make me wet like a girl.” He babbled.

Sam pumped his finger in and out of Dean before adding another. “Being so good for me..” He kissed Dean's thigh again, sucking a mark onto it. “Taking everything I'm giving you like a good boy.”

Dean whined, grinding down against him. “I'm close…” he breathed out, his legs nearly closing around Sam's head. 

Sam pushed his legs apart and pulled away, smiling when Dean began to whimper and beg. “I'm making this last…” he leaned down and kissed him softly. Sam stood up and slipped his boxers off, dropping them on the floor. “Do you need prep-”

Dean pushed up on his hands, sitting up on his knees. He pushed Sam back on the bed, kissing him. “You think I'm not gonna return the favor?”

“You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Dean whispered, curling his fingers around Sam's cock. “God…” He sighed, kissing the head. “You're huge.”

Sam felt his face heat up so he covered it up with his arm. “Dean-” 

“Shut up.” Dean muttered before slipping the head into his mouth. He moaned around Sam, jerking him off as he licked and sucked on him. Dean's eyes fluttered shut as he began to take Sam further and further into his mouth. He stopped about halfway down and began to bob his head, his nails digging into Sam's thighs.

Sam moaned beneath him, fighting to hold his hips down and not fuck into Dean's mouth. He arched his back slightly, balling his hands into fists. “God…” He groaned, looking down at Dean. “You look so pretty like this…” He reached down and rubbed his thumb across Dean's cheek.

Dean pulled away, spit dripping from his mouth. “Talk me through it…” He jerked Sam off slowly. “Wanna get you off…”

“Fuck…” Sam slid his hand through Dean's hair, moaning as Dean began to lick at him again. “Gonna kill me if you keep teasing like that..”

Dean took more of Sam into his mouth, gagging far before he reached the end. There was still an inch or two left when Dean pulled off, wiping his mouth. “Fuck, you're gonna make my throat raw-”

“Then don't put it all in your mouth.” Sam whispered, gently taking Dean's hand and guiding it to his cock. “Touch the parts you can't fit.”

Dean wrapped his hand around the base of Sam's cock, leaning down and taking the first few inches into his mouth. He bobbed his head and hummed, which sent vibrations down Sam's sensitive cock. Sam moaned, arching his back, fucking into Dean's mouth with shallow thrusts. 

“Make sure you get it real wet.” Sam moaned, grinding into his mouth. He grunted some, his hips stuttering. “Fuck, it's gonna be going in you soon.”

“Fuck…” Dean breathed out when he pulled off, jerking Sam off faster. “You taste so good.” He leaned up and kissed Sam, nipping at his lower lip. “Gonna make you come.”

Sam grabbed Dean by the back of his neck, kissing him again. He moaned into Dean's mouth, his hips bucking. “Dean-”

“I know.” Dean whispered, kissing him. “Just relax, lemme make you feel good.” He kissed down Sam’s neck and torso, sucking marks onto it. He kissed his hips before taking Sam's cock back into his mouth. Slowly, he bobbed his head, holding Sam's hips down. 

Easily, Sam could have pulled away from his grip, but he didn't want to. It felt good to submit to someone. To relax and get taken care of. “God… you’re really good at this- ah!” He gasped as Dean grazed his teeth across the tip of his dick. “Shit, Dean.”

Dean ignored him, continuing to kiss and suck at the length of Sam's cock, his hand wrapped around whatever part he wasn't mouthing at. He kissed the tip, looking up at Sam before taking Sam down as far as he could once more. He moaned, grinding his own dick down against the bed. He pushed down further, gagging around Sam as his cock bumped against the back of his throat.

Sam would be lying if he said it didn't feel good to have Dean choke on his dick. The tightness and the wetness of it all drove Sam crazy. He was whimpering softly, squirming around on the bed. It all felt too good. The kissing and the touching and Dean's mouth. He wasn't going to last. “Slow down-”

“You're close already?” Dean asked, wiping the spit off of his mouth with the back of his hand. He was smirking some, teasing Sam.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, his hair falling across his sweat slick face. “I-”

“Already?” Dean asked again, jerking him off painfully slow. Dean was going to kill him. “It's only been a couple minutes-” He placed a kiss to the tip. “Does something else have you worked up?”

Sam nodded, his hips bucking. He slowly fucked into Dean's hand, tossing his head back and moaning. “Fuck-”

Dean pulled away, leaning back. Sam's cock slapped against his stomach, hard and wet. “Tell me what has you so worked up.”

Sam panted, closing his eyes. “Getting you off gets me off.” He whispered. “I love making other people come.”

Dean slid his hand up Sam's chest. “Well..” He whispered. “Aren't I lucky?” 

Sam smiled up at him, nodding. “Mhm.” He wrapped his arms around Dean and rolled them over, kissing his neck. “M gonna prep you, okay?” He kissed Dean softly.

“Okay.” He whispered, spreading his legs.

Almost effortlessly Sam slipped two fingers into Dean. He pumped them in and out slowly, kissing his forehead. Dean whined softly beneath him, riding his fingers. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Sam was sure his lips were swollen by now, but he couldn't stop. Being so close to Dean did things go him. Sam kissed him to muffle his moans and kissed him to be close. It was amazing.

Dean rocked his hips down, fucking himself on Sam's fingers. He gasped and whined, begging for more along with moaning Sam's name. They didn't really talk during it. Dean's moans filled the air while Sam fucked him open and kissed at his neck. The room was calm and cool, but Sam felt hot all over. Not that that was a bad thing. 

“I'm ready.” Dean whispered, kissing Sam's jaw. “I need you.” He wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Fuck, okay.” Sam slipped his fingers out and pulled away, looking at the nightstand. Something was missing. “Fuck.”

“What?” Dean sat up against the headboard, kicking Sam's leg with his foot. “Really… is everything okay?”

“Uh-” Sam swallowed. “Yeah. I just um..” He covered his face. “I forgot to get lube.”

“How does a gay man forget lube?”

“You're the bottom!”

“You went shopping today.” Dean argued, grinning. 

“It's been a while! I'm out of habit!” 

“But I can't-” He looked Sam up and down. “I can't take you with no lube.”

Sam nodded, biting his lip. “I can get you off still.” He turned back to Dean, crawling towards him. “I don't mind.”

“No.” Dean whispered.

Sam felt his stomach drop. Great, he thought. He ruined this.

“I…” Dean started. “You can-” He stared at Sam. “Don't laugh but like… you could always…” Dean's face was bright red. “I just…” He spread his legs. “You can fuck my thighs.”

“What?”

“I can press my thighs together and you can fuck them while I jerk off.” Dean looked at his lap, shyly. “I've done it before. My boyfriend… was like you.”

Sam kissed him, ignoring the pang of anger that rushed through him. They were adults. Dean was allowed to have other partners before him. “Guess you have a type.”

Dean smiled against him. “Guess so.”

After digging through his bag for a few minutes, Sam finally found some lotion. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. Dean had kissed and touched him while he looked and it was very distracting. Sam kissed Dean as he rubbed the lotion between his legs, making sure to put a generous amount on his inner thighs. Sam held Dean close, Dean's back to his chest. He jerked Dean off slowly with one hand, while the other hand gripped his cock and pressed it between his thighs. He eased into him slowly, moaning softly. 

“God..” Sam fucked between his thighs slowly, jerking Dean off in time with his thrusts. “This is… fuck.” Sam bit his shoulder, holding his hip with his hand. “Can't imagine how it feels to be in you.”

Dean moaned into the pillow, pressing back against Sam. “Gonna have to pick some lube up tomorrow. I'll call in sick-”

“Dean.” Sam grunted, pressing against him as close as he could. Dean's thighs were warm and slick and he had them pressed together so tight that it made Sam dizzy. It felt amazing. Sam was overstimulated and so hard it hurt, and Dean's thighs were only unraveling him even more. “God-” 

“I know.” Dean whispered, fucking into Sam's hand. “I know, Sammy…” He reached back and tangled his hand in Sam's hair. “Can't wait to have you in me…” He turned his head and kissed Sam roughly. “Gonna tear me apart.”

“Shit.” Sam fucked into him harder, Dean’s was rubbing up against his abdomen. He couldn't wait to be inside Dean either. He was so tight and made such pretty noises when he was stuffed full. Sam was going to ruin him. Sam reached up and grabbed Dean by the back, but didn't squeeze.

With each thrust, Dean's hard cock rubbed up against the dirty motel sheets. Thankfully, the friction was enough to get him off. He found himself fucking down against the bed then back against Sam's cock. 

His cock leaked against Dean's thighs, mixing in with the lotion. He was only getting slicker and it took all of the self control Sam had in him to not slip his dick inside, covered in lotion and pre-come. “Dean.” He moaned, burying his face in Dean's shoulder. “Fuck-”

“Go harder.” Dean moaned, jerking himself off, his body pinned beneath Sam and the bed. “Please, I need it.”

Sam slammed into him, dropping his hand from Dean’s throat. “Fuck.” He pressed Dean face down against the bed, straddling the backs of his thighs. He fucked down against Dean, his thumb finding Dean's hole and slipping inside.

“Ah!” Dean buried his face in the sheets and moaned.

Sam fingered Dean open as he fucked him, leaning down and kissing his back. “Gonna make you come on just my fingers.” He growled into Dean’s neck. “Think you can do that?” 

“Yes.” Dean moaned. “Fuck yes.” 

Sam smirked, grinding down between Dean's thighs. The tip of his cock brushed across the sheets and it was just enough to bring Sam to the edge. He didn't want to come yet, though, so he slowed his pace. “Dean.” Sam moaned. It was the only word he seemed to remember.

“Please.” Dean practically sobbed against the sheets. “Give me more, I need it, fuck.”

“Behave.” Sam whispered, adding another finger. “And say please next time.”

Dean groaned. “God. Fuck me harder, please, Sammy, fuck me harder.”

Sam continued to fuck his thighs slowly, smirking when Dean just whimpered. He pumped his fingers in and out in time with his thrusts. “But you sound so pretty when you beg… I wanna keep hearing it.”

“Please!” Dean nearly screamed. “It hurts, please, I need to come.” He reached back and grabbed at Sam's wrist, moving it faster. “Please, daddy.” 

Sam stopped, licking his lips. “What did you say?”

Dean was blushing and hiding his face from Sam. “Please, fuck me-”

“Mm.” Sam shook his head. “It wasn't that.”

“Sam-”

“Say it again and I'll make you come.” Sam's fingers teased his hole.

“Daddy.” Dean groaned against the pillow. He reached back and spread his ass open. “Please, daddy, make me come.” 

“Fucking shit-” Sam growled, fucking between Dean's thighs as fast as he could. He slammed his fingers into Dean, fucking him sloppy and out of rhythm. “Keep saying it, keep calling me that.” 

“Daddy.” Dean moaned. “Gonna come from just your fingers daddy.” He pushed back against Sam's fingers, nearly fucking himself on them. “God, you're so fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” Sam pounded into him, looking down at his fingers that were slamming into Dean. “You look so pretty like this… gonna have to come back just to tear you apart.”

“Please!” Dean dropped his hand and gripped the sheets. “I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming.”

Sam continued to fuck between Dean's thighs, pumping his fingers into him sloppily. “Come for me, Dean.” Sam groaned, grinding into him. He began to fuck him sloppily, tossing his head back and moaning. It felt so good and he needed it so bad. The noises Dean made were unraveling Sam, causing him to shake. 

Sam pulled out from between Dean's thighs and jerked himself off. He grunted, rubbing the head of his dick against Dean's hole, his fingers still inside. He pulled his fingers out, pressing the head of his cock against the rim. “Fuckfuckfuck-” Sam babbled as he came, his entire body shaking. “Fuck…” Sam whispered, leaning back on his heels.

He looked down at Dean who was softly panting, his eyes closed. He ran his fingers through Dean's hair, smiling. He leaned down and kissed Dean's back then his neck. “You were really good.” He whispered, smiling. “Sit up. I'm gonna clean you up.”

Dean rolled over and smiled lazily up at Sam. “A man after my own heart.”

“Shut up.” Sam scoffed, walking over to the bathroom, grabbing a two towels. He walked over to the bed and cleaned up Dean's come then the come he got on Dean. “Need this?” He asked, tossing him the clean towel. He walked into the bathroom and combed his hair with his fingers and stared at himself in the mirror.

Within seconds his high was over. He studied the scars, the scars Dean had seen for at least an hour. Sam wanted to cry for a moment. The scars must’ve turned him off. He ran his fingers across his scars, chewing at his lip. He decided that he should get dressed once he walked back out.

“Come back to bed.” Dean teased, setting the towel on the floor. “Come on.” He reached up and took Sam's hand, pulling him onto the bed. He covered them up, pulling Sam into a kiss. “You wanna get dressed?”

“Just to cover up my scars and stuff.” Sam forced out a laugh. “They're-”

“Hot.” Dean cut him off. “They're… wow… when you first pulled off your shirt I just-”

“Shut up.”

“What?” Dean laughed. “They're badass.” He climbed onto Sam's lap, kissing across the several scars that littered Sam's chest. “I love ‘em.” 

Sam smiled down at him. “Kiss me again, okay?” 

Dean pressed his lips against Sam's, smiling once he pulled away. “Really, though, they're cool.”

“Whatever.” Sam mumbled, attempting to change the subject. “Tonight was great, you were… great.”

“I know.” Dean smirked, laying down next to Sam once more. “But..” His fingers slid down Sam's chest towards his hips. “We need a second round.”

“How about we have one tomorrow?” Sam whispered, taking Dean's hand and kissing it. “I know it sounds crazy but I didn't bring you here to just sleep with you.”

“Sweet.” Dean kissed his cheek, resting his head on his shoulder. “So… are you staying another day?” 

“Maybe…” Sam took a deep breath and looked down at Dean. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Mhm.” Dean hummed. 

“Do you want me just for my dick?” 

Dean slapped his chest playfully. “Don't be so cocky. I like you for your personality, too.” He pulled Sam into a kiss. 

Sam could get used to this, honestly. “Maybe I can stay a day more.” He whispered, kissing him again. “One day won't hurt.” 

“Yeah…” Sam looked up at the ceiling, pulling Sam closer. “It wouldn't.” But leaving would.


End file.
